‘It sounds workable, Vanion,’ Sparhawk said. ‘Will you be coming with us?’

‘No,’ Vanion replied. ‘I’m going to have to ride to Chyrellos and alert a few friendly members of the Church Hierocracy to what Annias has planned.’

Sparhawk nodded; then he remembered something. ‘I’m not entirely positive about this,’ he said, ‘but I think there’s someone here in Cimmura who’s been watching me, and I don’t think he’s an Elene.’ He smiled at Sephrenia. ‘I’ve been trained to recognize the subtle touch of a Styric mind. Anyway, this watcher seems to be able to pick me out no matter what kind of disguise I wear. I’m almost certain that he’s the one who set the church soldiers on Kalten and me, and that means that he has ties to Annias.’

‘What does he look like?’ Sephrenia asked him.

‘I can’t really say He wears a hooded robe and keeps his face hidden.’

‘He can’t report to Annias if he’s dead,’ Kalten shrugged. ‘Lay an ambush for him somewhere on the road to Cardos.’

‘Isn’t that a little direct?’ Sephrenia asked disapprovingly, tying the bandage firmly in place.

‘I’m a simple man, Sephrenia. Complications confuse me.’

‘I want to work out a few more details,’ Vanion said. He looked at Sephrenia. ‘Kalten and I will be riding together as far as Demos. Do you want to return to the motherhouse?’

‘No,’ she replied. ‘I’ll go with Sparhawk just in case this Styric who’s been watching him tries to follow us. I should be able to deal with that without resorting to murder.’

‘All right, then,’ Vanion said, rising to his feet. ‘Sparhawk, you and Kalten go and see to the wagons and the building materials. I’ll go to the palace and lie a little bit. As soon as I get back, we’ll all leave.’

‘And what would you like me to do, Vanion?’ Sephrenia asked him.

He smiled. ‘Why don’t you have another cup of tea, Sephrenia?’

‘Thank you, Vanion. I believe I will.’

Chapter 8

The weather had turned cold, and the sullen afternoon sky was spitting pellets of hard-frozen snow. A hundred cloaked and black-armoured Pandion Knights rode at a jingling trot through the heavily forested region near the Arcian border with Sparhawk and Sephrenia in the lead. They had been travelling for five days.

Sparhawk glanced up at the sky and reined in the black horse he was riding. The horse reared, pawing at the air with his front hooves. ‘Oh, stop that,’ Sparhawk told him irritably.

‘He’s very enthusiastic, isn’t he?’ Sephrenia said. ‘He’s also not very bright. I’ll be glad when we catch up with Kalten and I can get Faran back.’

‘Why are we stopping?’

‘It’s close to evening, and that grove over there seems to be fairly clear of undergrowth. We may as well set up our night’s encampment here.’ He raised his voice then, calling back over his shoulder. ‘Sir Parasim,’ he shouted.

The young knight with the butter-coloured hair rode forward. ‘Yes, my Lord Sparhawk?’ he said in his light tenor voice.

‘We’ll stop for the night here,’ Sparhawk told him. ‘As soon as the wagons get here, set up Sephrenia’s tent for her and see to it that she has everything she needs.’

‘Of course, my Lord.’

The sky had turned a chill purple by the time Sparhawk had overseen the setting up of their encampment and had posted sentries. He walked past the tents and the flickering cooking fires to join Sephrenia at the small fire before her tent, which was set slightly apart from the rest of the camp. He smiled when he saw her ever-present tea-kettle hanging from a metal tripod which she had set over the flames.

‘Something amusing, Sparhawk?’ she asked.

‘No,’ he said. ‘Not really’ He looked back towards the youthful knights moving around their cooking fires. ‘They all seem so young,’ he said almost as if to himself, ‘hardly more than boys.’

‘That’s the nature of things, Sparhawk. The old make the decisions, and the young carry them out.’

‘Was I ever that young?’

She laughed. ‘Oh yes, dear Sparhawk,’ she told him. ‘You couldn’t begin to believe how young you and Kalten were when you came to me for your first lessons. I felt as if a pair of babies had been placed in my care’

He made a rueful face ‘I guess that answers that question, doesn’t it?’ He held out his hands to the warmth of her fire. ‘It’s a cold night. I think my blood thinned out while I was in Jiroch. I haven’t been really warm since I came back to Elenia. Did Parasim bring you your supper?’

‘Yes. He’s a very nice boy, isn’t he?’

Sparhawk laughed. ‘He’d probably be offended if he heard you say that.’

‘It’s the truth, isn’t it?’

‘Of course, but he’d be offended all the same. Young knights are always sensitive.’

‘Have you ever heard him sing?’

‘Once. In chapel.’

‘He has a glorious voice, doesn’t he?’

Sparhawk nodded. ‘I don’t think he really belongs in a militant order. A regular monastery would probably suit his temperament better.’ He looked around, then stepped outside the circle of firelight, dragged a log to the side of the fire, and covered it with his cloak. ‘It’s not exactly an easy chair,’ he apologized, ‘but it’s better than sitting on the ground.’

‘Thank you, Sparhawk.’ She smiled. ‘That was very thoughtful of you.’

‘I do have a few manners, I suppose.’ He looked at her gravely ‘This is going to be a hard journey for you, I’m afraid.’

‘I can endure it, my dear.’

‘Perhaps, but don’t go out of your way to be unnecessarily brave. If you get tired or cold, don’t hesitate to say something to me’

‘I’ll be just fine, Sparhawk. Styrics are a hardy people’

‘Sephrenia,’ he said then, ‘how long will it be until the twelve knights who were in the throne room with you begin to die?’

‘That’s really impossible to say, Sparhawk.’

‘Will you know – each time it happens, I mean?’

‘Yes. At the moment, I’m the one to whom their swords will be delivered.’